The Dark Side of the Moon
by totallymindless
Summary: With a bitter scornful laugh, she said, “Funny. Your Dark Lord was the murderer, but their blood rests on your hands, doesn’t it? How many spirits haunt your dreams, Draco? How many are going to be fighting to torture your soul in hell?” [Post DH]
1. Chapter 1

The Dark Side of the Moon

Chapter 1

_Introductions_

* * *

Draco Malfoy bowed his head, rubbing his temples fretfully as he stalked down the fifth floor corridor of the Hogwarts castle, his mind consumed with fitful thoughts of rage and insolence. However, if one were to look at things from young Malfoy's point of view, one might be slightly more understanding to his agony, but only slightly. You see, Draco Malfoy, as all of the Hogwarts students, had been asked (_forced_, in his mind), by the Ministry of Magic, into retaking their last year of school, due to inappropriate professors the previous year. Of course, the board did have sufficient evidence to prove this matter, it was blatantly obvious with less than a half glance at the test scores. And honestly, two of the professors _and_ the Headmaster had been accused Death Eaters, any self-respecting wizarding family hurriedly agreed with the proposal, much to the dismay of their children. 

That, of course, brings us back to young Draco Malfoy, stalking through the newly repaired Hogwarts castle, his grey eyes closed tightly, mumbling under his breath, and fervently rubbing his head in an attempt to chase away the pounding ache being to throb above his eyes. He had just experienced the most tiring week in his entire school career, for the _second_ time, and the migraine settling in was only the first sign of proof of that. Continuing his silent tirade, he stopped in front of the fourth door to the left of the Boris the Bewildered's statue and grumbled, "Rubber Ducky."

The door opened, and Malfoy released a sigh of relief, a nice hot bath would do him some good, possibly even melt away the horrid effects of living out another year as the Hogwarts Head Boy.

He stepped inside the candlelit room, gently dropping his bag to the floor, as not to agitate his pounding skull even further. The quiet trickling of water caught his attention, and he lifted his head, opening his eyes, his thoughts including several foul words and suggestions as to what the prefect occupying the room could do to himself.

As it turned out, the prefect was not a he.

Perched perilously atop the diving board, one foot dangling into the clear water below, was the decidedly female, Lilith Moon. She tilted her head to him, as the sound of the door clicking closed brought her attention from the endless ripples her toes provoked the water to form. Her pale cheeks were stained with the dark kohl that once rimmed her eyes, her thick auburn hair spiraling down her bare shoulders in messy tendrils, her nose red with crying.

"You didn't bolt the door," Malfoy accused harshly, as if he had the right to be offended.

"Oh," Moon answered shortly, returning her once tear-filled gaze to the water, swirling her foot, causing the ripples to appear, yet again, their never ending cycle beginning once more.

Malfoy crossed his arms, haughtily leaning against the doorframe, glaring at her. "Well," he drawled, "are you quite finished with your sob fest, I would like to bath, sometime this week."

Slowly, bringing her eyes back to him, she sighed. "It's a pity the room is taken then, isn't it? I'm sure you can find your way out, Mister Malfoy." Pointing at the door he was slumped against, she said dryly, "The door is just there, incase you've already forgotten."

"You're not even a _prefect_. I'll have you gutting salamanders for a month—" He stumbled for her name, and settled for hissing out, "_You!_"

With a sarcastic smile, she lifted a deep red brow. "And when, you do inform the Headmistress of your unknown delinquent's illegal activities, be sure to mention that you were breaking curfew as well, Malfoy." She paused, slipping into the warm pool-sized tub, soaking her long curls with jasmine scented water. "You might want to mention gawking at my naked body, too." Glancing down as herself, her fingers trailing along several deep scars ripped into her once smooth flesh, she scoffed. "Not that it's much to look at, but I suppose tits are tits and twats are twats, whether they're scarred or not."

Malfoy stilled, seemingly lost of words, before spitting, "_I'm_ Head Boy, I'm allowed to be where ever I damn well _please_." Obviously, biting down a gag of disgust, he added, "And, _as if_, I'd ever sully my thoughts with so disgusting a creature as you." He topped the statement off with a severe scowl, lifting his chin arrogantly, giving his pointed nose and even more upturned appearance.

Moon grinned, almost sadistically, a dry chuckle forcing itself from her chapped lips. "Yes, and I suppose that's why your pants are so snug tonight."

If at all possible, Draco Malfoy paled. Involuntarily, his eyes flickered downward, attesting to the truth of her statement. He forced the shock from his face, replacing it with a mask of indifference. "What, in Merlin's name, makes you think _you_ caused that?"

With a roll of her eyes, Moon disappeared into the dark water.

Not one to give in to others wills, or at least those of people _inferior_ to him, Draco Malfoy tugged his jumper over his head, tossing it into the floor. He wasn't going to give up what was rightfully his just because some insolent, little chit refused to leave.

Moon completely ignored him, remaining submerged as he undressed and lowered himself into the water, carefully searching its depths for the shadow of her form as not to touch her. She surfaced, less than a meter in front of him, her eyes wide, revealing startling dark irises.

"Galloping Gargoyles!" she gasped. "What _are _you doing?"

"It's my right, as Head Boy, to use this bath. _You_, Miss—" He stalled on her name, and cursed himself for falling into the trap a second time. "Are violating my rights and I refuse to be denied my privileges because of a delinquent _Ravenclaw_!"

Snorting once, and backstroking away from him, Moon chuckled mockingly. "Seven goddamned years, Malfoy and you don't even know what _house_ I'm in."

Malfoy inwardly groaned at the lack of effect his decision to join her had upon the girl. He had hoped she would scurry away, leaving him to relax in peace. As it was, he assumed he would have to go about his usual business and ignore her presence. He failed quite miserably at that, just a few short moments later.

Moon, guessing correctly that Malfoy would not be vacating her domain anytime soon, released a resigned sigh, and flicked her wrist, summoning her wand. With a silent charm, the soft plucking of guitar stings filled the room, soon to be joined by a driving bass line, steady beat of drums, and the hoarse whisper of a voice. Floating on her back, with an air of utter detachment, she relaxed her breathing, allowing herself to slip into the comforting depths of oblivion.

It was then, Draco Malfoy found himself unable to ignore her presence any longer. It was neither the rumbling of Muggle music, nor the soft female body drifting ever closer to him, that captured his attention. Instead, he was entranced by the candlelight flickering across her abdomen. The light displayed, not beauty, but the destroyed remnants of what might have once been. Her torso was slashed, shredded, with several long jagged scars, sweeping down from her far above her navel passed her hips. Her neck, now exposed as her hair fanned out around her, barring similar marks, along with a few deep puncture marks, scattered in odd round patterns.

It wasn't so much that he had never seen such injuries, because he had. He had _inflicted_ wounds just as horrific on many of the Dark Lords enemies, or _playthings_ as some tended to be, before he destroyed them. The thing about these scars that entranced him, mesmerized him, was the simply fact that they were scars. Scar tissue didn't happen in the magical world, there were too many ways around it. Unless, of course, you were Mad-Eye Moody, who tended to most of his injuries himself, leading to the heinous mask-like face he carried— or _had_ carried like a trophy.

Of course, there was always the possibly that— "Greyback?" the name left Malfoy's lips before he realized he had come to a conclusion, his face a stunned mask of revolting and sickened expressions.

Moon started, splashing in the water as she attempted to right herself. Once she managed to gain her footing she shot Malfoy a freezing glare, before growling, "Oh, don't act so appalled, Malfoy." Shaking her head, she slowly made for the steps. "It's not as if you are above the bastard anyway. Just because your handy work didn't remain seen, doesn't make it any less heinous." Malfoy just watched her go, her truthful words like ice to his soul.

As she hoisted herself out of the water, she paused, turning to face him. "Actually, I'm of the opinion that what you did is worse. Fenrir was a sick, twisted fuck. You were never anymore than a weakling doing another's dirty work. At least, someone with balls and a mind of his own caused what I carry. Your victims, actually, they weren't yours were they?" she asked cruelly. "No, you were just the garbage boy, weren't you, Malfoy." With a bitter scornful laugh, she said, "Funny. Your Dark Lord was the murderer, but their blood rests on your hands, doesn't it? How many spirits haunt your dreams, Draco?" She raised an eyebrow at his horror-stricken face. "How many are going to be fighting to torture your soul in hell?"

With nothing left to say, she strode across the room, wrapping herself in a towel before, vanishing out the door, leaving only her wet footprints behind.

Draco Malfoy, sat in the large bath, his breaths labored, his eyes flickering from one shadow to the next in frantic search for unseen ghosts, the words spoken in bitter rage, awakening fears Malfoy had long wished suppressed.

Long minutes passed slowly by, as the young Malfoy willed away the encompassing thoughts of crimes he had committed, willingly or not, he wasn't sure any more, from his mind. It was hours before he crawled into his bed, only to live through another sleepless night.

* * *

Endnotes:

1) Moon is a canon character, she's mentioned in Philosopher's Stone, though she is not given a sex, or a first name. During "Harry Potter and Me" JRK shows a section of her notes, which is a list of students in Harry's year. Only the first three letters of Moon's name is shown. They are "Lil." After searching several websites for female names beginning with Lil, I decided to use Lilith.

2) Lilith is derived from the Assyrian _lilitu_, meaning "of the night," and often used as the name of a demon in Assyrian myths. In Jewish and Islamic tradition, Lilith was Adam's first wife, who was cast out of Eden for her unwillingness to submit to him and replaced by Eve; their offspring, became the evil spirits of the world. Whether or not this will have any affect on the story, is yet to be seen.

3) I've never attempted a "trio era" story before, so bear with me, please. If you see anything _completely_ non-canon, or out of character, please, please, let me know.

4) This will only be roughly edited by me, unless someone volunteers. You've been warned.

5) Reviews are like chocolate, it doesn't matter what kind, it's still delicious, and you'll always receive a thank you in return.


	2. Chapter 2

The Dark Side of the Moon

Chapter 2

_Cigarettes_

* * *

_The pain intensified tenfold, as canine teeth sank into the soft flesh of her neck, and her body arced upward, large claws forcing her to arch her spine brutally as the cruel portrayal of love approached its climax. No sound left her lips, as she trembled in agony. She wouldn't scream. _

_It wasn't an act of defiance, her silent tortured struggle was just as arousing for the inhuman soul above her as anguished tears and terrified screams. She couldn't scream. Screaming would only alert others of her terror, would only trap others inside this hell. She'd be damned for all eternity if she let that happen. _

_She would remain silent. She could remain silent. _

_One claw, fisted in her hair, jerked downwards and the only light in the sky, a sliver of the pale moon, blurred into a dozen colors as pain shot through her neck like lightening, harboring in the base of her skull before firing into her mind with a flash of brilliant white light. _

_It wasn't the scarlet blood that dripped onto her tearstain cheeks from yellowed canine fangs, nor the dingy, rotten smell of air forced from the lungs of the creature pinning her to the sodden ground, nor the feel of firecrackers sparking to life within her as he filled her womb with his seed that froze her heart with fear in that moment. _

_No, all of those things would pass, just as the world turns and the sun rises. Her heart stopped beating, and her lungs stopped filling with air, because she screamed. Loud, and clear, and it echoed on the crisp night air, rousing the lanterns of the house nearby. _

_She prayed for death, her death, as the beast clung to her, yelping manically, digging the blood stained nails of his claws into her flesh, ripping her open as he was pulled away. The snapping of teeth, baying of dogs, and slashing of claws filled the air around her, mixing with the quiet chant of her mother, as she stroked her hair, dragging her limp form away from the battle. _

_Words were choked through her quivering lips, words she didn't understand but meant with her entire soul, words that no one would dare repeat. A loud crack of Apparation broke through the sound of battle and all was hushed, but for the chanting of her mother. Then that, the solace of unknown words, was broken too, with a howl of a scream, and her body tumbled downward, back onto the sullied ground. _

_The cold mud, felt unrealistically warm against her shivering flesh as the blood flowing from her wounds swirled with the earth. Her eyes begged to close, to hide the truth from her, but she refused to let them. _

"_Come. Hurry. Mungo's. Can't. Dying," were the only words her mind comprehended in the stuttered and croaked voices of those she knew, though they weren't hovering above her. She didn't understand why. _

_And then, with crushing heartbreak, she knew._

_Swimming before her eyes was the dying image of her serenity, of her heaven. Slashed across the throat, blood gushing from the fatal wound and the dirty fingers attempting to halt the flow, spilling onto the sodden ground, mingling with hers, his head thrown back, dark hair matted with dirt, singed from curses, his eyes hollow and empty. And it was all her fault. _

_She screamed. _

Panting heavily, frantically yanking her bedding from her legs, Lilith Moon leaned over the edge of her bed and retched into the wastebasket. After empting the contents of her stomach, she roughly wiped the back of her hand across her mouth, feeling the wetness of tears on her cheeks. Sniffing, despite her anger, she ridded her face of tears, flicking on her light.

As the small curtained area of her bed filled with a soft glowing light, her eyes settled on her reflection. The mirror, merrily glued to her bedpost, whispered in a hoarse voice, "I always said you were most beautiful when you were crying." She smiled weakly at it, letting herself believe that it wasn't some charmed devise quoting phrases that he wanted her to hear even when they were apart, but him, peaking in the curtains, pressing kisses to her hair.

Only allowing her fantasy to last for a few moments longer, she sighed vanishing the vomit in her wastebasket and climbing out of bed. The gray light of morning peered into the false windows of the room, casting its dull rays across the beds of the other sleeping girls. Moon tucked her hair behind her ear, thanking whatever greater power there may or may not have been, for not letting them stir.

Gathering her things, she padded silently to the bathroom, and stood before the sink, staring at her reflection. It gave her no words of comfort or intrigue, and not for the first time, she was pleased at its silence. Opening the medicine chest, she carefully removed the bottle of pills from the top shelf, fingering the lid for a moment, in contemplation. With a sharp inhalation of air, she tugged off the cap and placed two pills in her palm. She quickly swallowed them, before inspecting the bottle again. Frowning, she transformed a pair of earrings into the shape of the pills, marking them with an 'x' on either side before slipping them into the bottle and replacing the lid.

Splashing cold water onto her face, she began her daily routine.

* * *

Draco Malfoy decided long ago that breakfast was for happy people. For cheerful people. For people who were _glad_ Harry Potter vanquished the Dark Lord. Draco Malfoy was not one of these people. Draco Malfoy did not eat breakfast.

Instead, he wandered the Hogwarts grounds, aimlessly. Not that he would ever admit to engaging in an aimless activity. That was not fitting for a Malfoy. Malfoy's had a purpose and Draco Malfoy's purpose was to annoy the living hell out of anyone he deemed unworthy of peace. Today's target, which surprisingly was not Harry Potter, happened to share his belief of breakfast being a meal for happy people, and she was not a happy person.

He spotted her with ease, listlessly posed against one of the many pillars of the colonnade, staring up at the patched ceiling, watching smoke drift lazily up into the air.

"Dirty, muggle habit, that," Malfoy said carelessly, nodding to the cancer stick resting between Moon's fingers as he strode up beside her.

She turned to him, breathing the smoke out through her nose; she brought the cigarette back to her lips. Lifting a sardonic eyebrow, she inhaled deeply, sucking the chemically enhanced tobacco into her lungs. When she released it, a small "oh" of sound left her lips as the smoke pooled in his face, clinging to his hair and clothes.

Wrinkling his nose, he took a step back, coughing, before realizing he had let her get to him, yet again. Smirking, he stole the cigarette from her loose grasp, taking a long drag from it. Returning the favor, he blew the smoke into her face. She merely blinked, holding her hand out, waiting for the return of her sorry excuse for the first meal of the day.

Malfoy ignored her outstretched hand, holding the cigarette between his thumb and forefinger, studying it with a scrutinizing gaze. Moon stared at him, mildly bemused, severely irked. Haughtily leaning against the stone pillar on one shoulder, her cigarette still between his fingers, he peered out into the trees of the forbidden forest.

"Lilith Moon, Hufflepuff, seventh year, adequate in Charms, brilliant in Arithmancy, struggles with Herbology, visit's the Headmistress on a seemingly regular basis, and lost her virginity to Fred and George Weasley," he chuckled, "not sure which managed to penetrate first, but my guess is Fred. First from the womb, first to the grave. It just makes sense." He chattered off what might be her defining traits with an air of vague amusement, sucking on her cigarette every so often, not moving his gaze the trees.

A dry laugh bubbled in Moon's throat, spilling out of her mouth sarcastically. "So, you've troubled yourself with learning my name. I suppose, your little whore offered the extra tidbits for free." She smiled faintly. "My, my, I'm surprised one little meeting in the bath could have had such an effect on you, Mister Malfoy. I didn't think you'd 'sully' your thoughts with such a 'disgusting creature' as me." Sighing in with a hint of amusement, she added, "It was George, by the way. I wouldn't want you to be forced to sleep with Parkinson, yet again, just to appease that little pique of intrigue."

Malfoy scowled. "I wasn't _thinking_ of you," he hissed, inwardly rolling his eyes at his words, they surely had not made anything better.

Moon laughed outright at that. "Oh, come on, Malfoy. I thought sparring with you would have a hint of a challenge in it. So far, I've dragged you through the mud without even trying. Make an effort."

As far as Malfoy was concerned, that was below the belt. She was calling _him_ dumb. Didn't she see the people he hung out with? Moon would have pointed out that is why he fancied himself so brilliant; he surrounded himself with thoughtless whores and bumbling baboons, had she heard his thoughts.

"I beg to differ," retorted Malfoy, lifting his chin.

"I'm sure you do," was Moon's humored reply, "but, sadly, I've lost interest in you. My cigarette, if you please." She motioned with her fingers curtly.

Enraged at her blatant brush off, Malfoy took one last drag off the cigarette before tossing it to the ground, smashing it under his toe. He exhaled the smoke into her face, arrogantly raising an eyebrow.

Moon frowned for a moment, before slipping her hand into the front pocket of her bag and removing a shiny, silver lighter and a new cancer stick. With a flick of the lighter, she took a short puff on the cigarette, giving Malfoy a snort of defiance. Again, she blew the smoke into his face. "I hope you die of cancer, Malfoy. Second hand, of course. _You_ wouldn't be able to contract the illness on your own." Laughing listlessly, she murmured, "I doubt you can do _anything_ own your own. Bet you even need help getting your little whore off." Slowly turning on her heel, she swaggered for the castle, ignoring any would be retorts.

Malfoy fumed, forcefully pulling out his wand and jabbing it in her direction. And with a whispered curse Moon's dark red hair was set ablaze. She gave a satisfying shriek, dropping her bag, and quickly removing her wand.

He was quickly disappointed however. Instead of covering herself in water to subdue the flames, she used a severing charm, ridding herself of the burning tresses. The burnt hair lay in a pile of smoldering ashes, as Moon ran a hand through the few remaining centimeters of tendrils. She released a humorless laugh, placing her wand back in the pocket of her robes, and continued on to the castle. Not giving Draco Malfoy, so much as a flicker of a glance.

His anger was only intensified.

* * *

Endnote: 

1) For those of you who are worried Moon will not _always_ get the last word. She simply knows Draco's character better than her knows hers, leading to winning the first few battles. Once little Malfoy pulls his head out of his ass, and learns her weak spots, he'll be cutting her down just as often, don't worry.

2) As for Draco not coughing and sputtering on his first cigarette, you can look at it two ways: one, it _wasn't_ his first smoke, or two, he's like me and it just didn't affect him. Take your pick.

3) I don't like chicken noodle soup, so _review_ for my soul.


	3. Chapter 3

The Dark Side of the Moon

Chapter 3

_Enough_

Usually, Hufflepuffs were described as easily forgotten under the limelight of Gryffindors heroes, the brilliant minds of Ravenclaw and the conning works of Slytherins. Characterized, by their sweet, shy nature most other students in Hogwarts were not threatened in the slightest by a Hufflepuff. After all, hard work was easily outmatched by a brilliant mind, loyalty outshined by heroism and their generally sweet disposition quickly taken advantage of by those of a sly and cunning nature.

Lilith Moon had never cared much for the usual description of her house. She was of the opinion that allowing the rest of the world to think she was a pushover could do no harm; it only led to them underestimating her, which eventually gave her the upper hand. Quite like the badger that boldly stood on Hufflepuff's blazon. At first glance, the furry, cuddly animal appeared to be rather harmless, even cute, but when riled, ferocious might be an understatement. Badgers have been known to fight much larger predators, such as wolves, coyotes, and bears, when threatened and come out victorious.

Draco Malfoy was simply a wolf who threatened her way of life and Lilith Moon was about to kick his ass, or at least make him cry.

She stood in front of the bathroom mirror glaring at her forlorn and weeping reflection; shorten bits of burnt curls dangling limply around her ears. It was silly really, to be so upset about losing one's hair, but telling herself that didn't seem to make her feel any better about it. "Okay," she breathed, wiping away her tears and putting on a brave face, the hollowness of her dark eyes betraying her sadness. However, she had grown used the empty look in her eyes; they had been empty for a long time now.

Flipping quickly through one of Megan Jones' copies of _Witch Weekly_, she searched for a suitable hair style, in the pages of what she considered one of the most degrading magazines a witch could own, however useful. Finally landing on an article labeled, 'Embrace Your Inner Punk Rocker' she found something that might work. "Well, it's the right length anyway," she informed the mirror, showing it the image.

"Whatever pleases you, dearie," replied the mirror, disgustedly.

"It's a good thing you can't scowl," Moon said dryly. Picking up her wand, she held the tip of it to her skull, silently praying the charm would work. As she began to read the charm, in a nearly silent chant, her hair glowed a vivid purple, the strands shortening and rearranging themselves in a new fashion. When the purple hue faded into nothing, Moon glanced at her reflection and cringed.

"It worked," chuckled the mirror.

Moon's eyes flickered between her reflection and the image in the magazine before groaning, "Yeah, it did." Running her fingers through the now brighten, spiky hair she tilted her head to the side. "I look like Weasley and Granger's lovechild."

Her once long, wavy dark red hair was now poker straight, and mostly short with longer shaggy tendrils that hung about her face. The unnatural shade of crimson red with bleach blonde undertones wasn't definitely not going to help her _blend-in_ as she had spent most of her school career doing. No, it was definitely a _standout_ sort of style.

Moon exhaled slowly, tracing a jagged scar along the column of her throat before letting her fingers travel to the fang marks behind her ear, trailing their round, spiraling path to her shoulder. "Nothing to hide behind now," she murmured quietly.

With another long sigh, she opened the medicine cabinet for the second time that day. Carefully avoiding the transfigured pills, she popped one into her mouth. She raised a small glass of water up in a mock toast before swallowing the pill.

* * *

Draco Malfoy was beyond pissed, beyond angry, beyond enraged. He was absolutely _furious_. The wretched little girl had gotten the better of him twice. And what of his revenge? Nothing. He had completely _destroyed_ the only moderately attractive thing about the girl and she sat completely unaffected in the desk across from him, staring dazedly as the Ancient Runes professor rambled on about something he honestly could not care _less_ to understand. She had even gone and made the mess he made of her even _worse_. She looked like one of Weasley and Granger's future children. 

A small hand wandered its way up Malfoy's thigh and Pansy Parkinson cooed, "_Draco_, baby, what's the matter?" He hated the way she emasculated his name like that.

Grabbing her hand in a bone-crushing grip, he hissed, "Don't _fucking_ touch me!" He threw her bruised hand away from him, snorting at her whimper before turning his gaze to the professor as his name was called.

"Ah, and Ms. Moon," said Professor Babbling with a grin. Malfoy clenched his jaw. 'Mr. Malfoy and Ms. Moon what?' he thought irately. The professor did not answer his unspoken question; instead, she called out another set of names. "Ms. Parkinson and Ms. Patil."

'Good gods,' moaned Malfoy mentally, 'partners with the bitch.' He continued to mentally whine over the matter until the scraping of chairs could be heard, notifying him of what he thought was a dismissal.

He stood abruptly, only to have his skull collide with a sharp solid object. A painful cry sounded above him as he rubbed his head and glanced up. Lilith Moon was standing above him clutching her chin in her hand as blood tickled between her fingers. "Fuck," he growled, "you've given me a headache."

An undignified squawk escaped her lips, before Malfoy was roughly shoved to the side by a muscular arm. "Easy, Moon," said Wayne Hopkins, a seventh year Hufflepuff, as blood spilled down the front of her shirt. Hopkins conjured a handkerchief and gently tugged Moon's hand from her chin sopping up the blood in the little piece of fabric. His ice blue eyes searched hers and he frowned. "You alright, Moon?" She gave an affirmative nod, but he still had his doubts. You see, Wayne Hopkins was going to be a Healer and her glazed eyes shouted at him that something was wrong.

"She'll have to see Madam Pomfrey," he announced still holding the handkerchief to her chin.

Professor Babbling nodded her agreement. "Mr. Malfoy, why don't you escort Ms. Moon to the infirmary? You can get something for you head while you're there."

Malfoy scowled. "She'll be fine. It'll stop bleeding in a moment."

"Now, Mr. Malfoy," snapped Babbling and Malfoy groaned, grabbing his bag and tossing it angrily over his shoulder. He strode huffily from the room not waiting for Moon to follow, slamming the door as he exited.

"Stupid, clumsy bitch," Malfoy muttered to himself storming down the hallway as Moon tottered along behind him. He swiftly arrived at the Hospital Wing, slamming the door closed to gain the attention of the nurse.

"Mr. Malfoy, how can I hel—" Madam Pomfrey cut off as Moon stumbled in after him.

Malfoy grabbed her arm, shoving her toward Madam Pomfrey. "_This_ needs medical attention," he said shortly.

"Mr. Malfoy!" exclaimed Madam Pomfrey, shooting him a glare. "Have a seat; I'll deal with you in a moment." She gently took Moon by the arm guiding her to a bed.

As Madam Pomfrey tended to the gash under Moon's chin, she gauged her reactions and demeanor silently. With a heavily exhalation of air, she sighed. "How many did you take?"

Moon blinked up at her. "Enough."

"Lilith, I swear to God, if you don—"

"Just three," admitted Moon, obviously avoiding an argument. "And two last night."

Madam Pomfrey quickly whipped around on her heel, vanishing from the room with a swish of her robes. To say Malfoy's interest was piqued would be an understatement. He watch with barely concealed intrigue as Madam Pomfrey returned with a bottle of vile green potion. "If you do this again, Lilith, I _will_ turn you in. You may not give a shit, but I do." Malfoy's eyes widened as the foul word left Pomfrey's lips. He had done many things to irk the nurse and he had never managed to rile her so.

A shudder ran down Moon's spine as she drank the potion but she did not give any sort of acknowledgement to Madam Pomfrey's words.

"Get out," Madam Pomfrey said coldly when it was obvious Moon was going to remain silent. She quickly vacated the nurse's domain. "Both of you," Pomfrey snapped when Malfoy failed to follow Moon out the door. He left as quickly as the other student had; the nurse was obviously in a fit of temper.

Malfoy's long strides allowed him to overtake Moon easily. Stepping in front of her and halting he caused her to crash into his chest. He grabbed her arm and shoved her against the wall, pinning her to it with his body. "What was that about, Moon?" he asked arrogantly. "What are you doing to irk dear Poppy Pomfrey so?" Smirking, he dipped his head, whispering in her ear. "And what, pray tell, do you have on her to make her keep your secrets?"

His breath was hot on her neck and Moon's heart raced in her chest as the close proximity caused the familiar pang of panic to rise up in her. The intense anxiety radiated from her, washing over Malfoy like a cool breeze. He relished in it — the intense pounding of her heart, her strained attempts to breathe, her nervous quaking. "Oh," he breathed, placing a hot kiss on her jaw. "You don't like this?"

Pressing her body closer to the wall with his own, he watched her gulp, closing her eyes and thinning her lips into nothing but a line. He placed a hand on her hip, searching for her skin with his fingers. His fingers tingled with excitement when she gasped as he made contact. "Do you like this, little Moon?" he queried before tracing a tiny nick of a scar with his tongue, her trembling arousing him more than he ever imagined it could.

Each time he touched her, even the most gently of caresses, felt like white, hot knives slicing her skin, and she unwillingly released a whimper. "No," she whispered faintly. Malfoy quashed the pang of guilt at her sincere answer.

"No?" he asked, nuzzling against her neck. He pressed his lips to her carotid artery, he could almost hear the intense fast paced pounding of her heart as he whispered, "And this? Do you like this?" She gave a weak shake of her head, and he felt his blood rush to his groin.

Sucking gently on the pulse point, feeling as if he was eating her heartbeat, he groaned and pressed his erection against her. She screamed weakly and the sound of it was lost in the empty corridor. Her breathing grew shallower and she gripped his robes in her fist. "Please, Draco," she begged. "Stop."

He thought he'd burst right there. The way she _begged_ his name. That's how it was supposed to be said. People were supposed to beg him, to worship him, to need him. "Say it again," he demanded, sliding his hand up to her waist.

"Please," she cried as she clawed at him, desperately trying to escape.

Growling, he fisted his hand in her hair forcing her to arc her neck, moving his other hand to her back making her arch her spine off the wall, pressing her against him. Her body bent to resemble the graceful slope of a bow; he tasted the long scar that trailed up the column of her throat, placing a sultry kiss on her newly mended chin. "No," he said, whispering in her ear now, "My name. Say my name," he ordered.

Burning tears slipped down into Moon's hair, her heart rate quickening again as she whispered, "You'll let me go?" Malfoy gave a quick decisive nod, pressing his lips to the pulse point again. He bit down, almost gently, as she opened her lips and this time her pleading call was mixed with a cry of pain. Malfoy thought he'd die of bliss.

"Good girl," praised her mockingly, placing one last tender kiss on the welted flesh of her neck before abruptly pulling away, leaving her slumped against the wall. He watched with a sort of amused smirk as she slid to the floor, wrapping her arms around her knees, completely giving in to the terror in her mind.

He strode away without a care, intent on finding Pansy Parkinson to take care of what he had started.

* * *

Endnotes:

1) This chapter is about three hundred words longer than it's predecessors, let's pretend that it's to make up for the crappy beginning. (That's right, I realize the whole first section of this chapter was shit.)

2) Do you think Draco is in character? I sort of second guessed myself. He fits the cruel, conceded bastard part of the bill in this chapter, but he did take an awful lot of initiative. Hmm… Thoughts? Please?

3) How many of you would be angry if I made Lupin the Defense professor? I realize that would be bringing him back to life and all, but I'd have to create an OC if I don't. Or pull something crazy out of my hat, which might be frightening.

4) Wayne Hopkins is a character from the books, just in case you were wondering. "Harry Potter and Me," again for the name, age and house. I should say thank you to the masters of obsession over at the Harry Potter Lexicon, because they make all this information so easy to access. You guys rock my socks.

5) Thanks so much to all who've reviewed so far. You are awesome.


	4. Chapter 4

The Dark Side of the Moon

Chapter 4

_Gently_

* * *

"Moon?" Wayne Hopkins called from the canary yellow sofa he was sprawled across as Lilith Moon entered the Hufflepuff common room.

Moon paused, her grip on her bag tightening until her fingernails dug into her palm. "Yeah," she breathed as she forced her eyes off the floor and to his face.

Standing, Hopkins made his way to her, taking her bag and easing it onto his shoulder. "Let's go for a walk, huh?"

"I'm fine," whispered Moon, her gaze focused on his yellow striped tie. "I just need to get some sleep." She moved to step around him, but he firmly took hold of her shoulder.

"No, Moon. We need to talk," he said in calm, demanding tone of voice.

With ease, he guided her from the room casting silencing glances at his questioning peers. Quietly, they traveled the dimly lit corridor filled with a multitude of food-orientated paintings. Moon clutched at the edge of her shirt in nervous contemplation as they strolled along, both of their mouths thinned.

"Lilith," sighed Hopkins as he halted, turning to face her. "What's going on?"

Moon refused to stop and the near silent click of her Mary Janes continued on the stone floor. "Nothing," she replied faintly.

"Nothing?" hissed Hopkins. "You overdosed today, Lilith. Overdosed! Don't tell me nothing, damn it!"

Whipping around to face him Moon glared at him with hollowed eyes. "Oh! You've been chatting with the little gossip again, Hopkins? Oh, poor Lilith. What a ­_god awful_ life she must lead? Whatever could we do to help her?" Snorting cruelly she shook her head. "I don't need your concern nor your pity, Hopkins," she spat. "I'm perfectly fine. What I take and how many is my business not yours."

"When exactly did I become _Hopkins_? I wasn't aware we were on such a distant footing. Mere acquaintances, is that all we are, Moon?" he asked derisively.

Moon tilted her chin defiantly. "You were his friend not mine. You despise me. Don't pretend otherwise just because he's dead."

Hopkins laughed solemnly. "Despised you? Fuck, Moon. I was jealous as hell of you. I wanted you gone so _badly_." Shaking his head, he snorted in disgust. "I _wanted_ to pray right alongside when you _pleaded_ with a god you don't even believe in to take you instead of him. But it wasn't because I _despised_ you. He was my best friend, Moon. I _loved_ him. Not that it mattered; he loved you! He'd of choose you over anything, friends, family you name it. And _you_, you were fucking great, deserved it, deserved him. You were the best thing that ever happened to the son of a bitch.

"I couldn't _hate _you, I couldn't _despise_ you. And _god _I wanted to. But, you made him too _goddamn_ happy. I couldn't _despise_ anyone who made him that happy. Even the devil himself."

Anguish and angry tears pooled in Moon's eyes spilling down her cheeks. "Well, maybe if you would have he would still be here," she shouted miserably. "He always listened to you. Why didn't you make him stop?"

"Stop what, Lilith? Stop caring for you? Or stop trying to save you?" he growled. "You don't think I did? I _begged_ him!"

As she stormed past him, he grabbed her arm in a halting grip and she hissed out in pain. His gut reaction was to release her, but his gut reaction was never the correct course to take with Moon, so instead he fisted her hair in his hand and ripped open her shirt exposing the deep purple bruise marring her upper arm. Buttons tapped on the stone tile in an almost melodious tune as he gaped at her, his fingers uncurling from her hair and trailing down her neck, the forefinger resting on a reddish-purple mark.

Sighing heavily he gazed at her trembling form, her eyes tightly closed, her face tilted from him, her hands twisted in the fabric of his shirt as she willed herself to have the strength to push him away. He took a step back staring at his socked feet. "Lil, who did this?" he questioned softly, using his wand to repair her shirt.

She harshly gulped in a breath of air as more tears spilled down her cheeks. Her eyes stared up into his, flashing with anger and extreme sadness and he was glad that for once they held emotion. "Don't call me that!" she spat, ignoring his question.

With a singular curt nod, he held his wand to the hickey on her neck whispering a charm to send it away. "You've enough marks to carry," he said sternly before padding down the corridor. Moon stared at his retreating form holding her bruised arm as she wiped away her tears.

He paused at the entrance to the Hufflepuff common room. "I'll be around if you want to talk," he informed her and then disappeared into the painting.

* * *

Draco Malfoy inhaled contentedly, slowly releasing the smoke as he stroked the dark hair of the girl beside him. Her head was nestled safely on his chest, her ear pressed against him allowing her to hear his heartbeat with ease. He twirled a bit of the hair around his finger thinking as his thoughts bobbed listlessly in his mind.

Nicotine filled his lungs as he deeply breathed in taking a long drag from his cigarette. _Dirty muggle habit, that_, he thought ironically. His nose wrinkled as her voice floated into his thoughts, '_I bet you even need help getting your whore off_.' Growling silently, he took another drag. He could get Pansy off; it's not as if it was that hard. He'd done it twice.

Smirking, the frightened image of Moon shoved against the wall flooded his mind. Excitement ran through him at just the thought. Her weak protesting screams, trembling body, erratic gasps for air and then the way she _begged_. He was getting hard just thinking about it. Releasing a dry chuckle he tapped the back of his cigarette spilling the ashes onto the girl's back.

"Ow!" she screamed immediately jumping up and brushing the ashes off her spine. "You prick! What d'you do that for?" she asked scowling darkly at him.

Malfoy tilted his head to the side, watching her breasts bounce as she frantically rubbed at her back, tempting the pain to flee. "Wanted to," he answered shortly.

"Want—Wanted to!" she screeched, slapping his bare chest in a fit of temper. He merely arched an eyebrow in response. "You're such a prick, _Draco_!"

As the name left her lips he wondered if he could make her beg the way Moon had, make her tremble, make the panic and fear roll off her in waves. "I know," he retorted. Putting the cigarette out in his ashtray, he grabbed her arm as she untangled herself from his sheets to leave. Forcefully tossing her back on his bed, he straddled her, pinning her beneath him. She gave an 'eep' of fright and he smirked, leaning over her. Coolly whispering, "Do I scare you, Pansy?" in her ear he gripped her arms in a bruising grasp.

Pansy Parkinson looked up at him searching for the answer in his eyes, knowing it would be found there. Draco Malfoy's desires were always written in his eyes; Parkinson had known him too long not to know that. "Y-yes," she shuttered out masterfully.

Malfoy had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. She already understood the game and was bound to give him what he wanted. _She's not even a good actress_, Malfoy whined mentally.

Moving his hand to her throat, he wrapped his fingers around it, tightening his hold until she gasped for air. Her eyes widened but no fear sparkled in their depths. He raked his nails down her side, one hand still locked around her neck, and she gave a whimper. She clawed at his hand pleading for air and he chuckled. Releasing her, he kissed the reddened skin before sinking his teeth into her in a harsh love bite. Parkinson cried out in pain and he slapped her. "Shut up," he hissed.

Her lips glued shut and he continued to bruise her body, making her cry silently with every affection. Tears rolled down her cheeks, but Malfoy doubted their sincerity. She was awful wet to be so upset. "Beg me," he growled.

Nodding her face frantically, she whimpered, "Please, please Draco, please."

He slapped her again. "I said _beg_," he roared.

Sniffling, Parkinson pleaded. "_Please_, Draco. I _n-need_ you. Please." It did nothing for him. She was faking. She was begging for sex, not for him to stop. She didn't even beg properly.

Groaning, he stood up tugging her from the bed. "Get out, Pansy," he said simply.

"What?" she gasped hurriedly wrapping a sheet around her.

"Get out," he snapped jabbing a finger toward the door.

"But why?" she pouted.

Rolling his eyes, he snarled, "Because, you aren't doing it right. If you aren't going to do it right, I don't want you. Go sully someone else's bed."

"Draco!" she shouted and he shoved her toward the door before disappearing behind dark green bed curtains.

He crossed his arms and huffed indignantly, glaring up at the green canopy. "Stupid, irritating, little whore," he whined. Lighting another cigarette he watched the smoke float lazily into the air, mulling over the thoughts in his mind.

After a moment, he grinned. The answer to his problem was simple; if he wanted to feel the power, the ecstasy that he received from the overwhelming panic that rolled off Moon, he'd just have to scare her again. He laughed once. That didn't take much.

* * *

An icy chill ran up her spine and panic gripped her heart and slender fingers danced across Moon's shoulders. "Afternoon," Malfoy drawled watching the gooseflesh appear on her neck with intrigue.

"Shall we get started?" asked Moon as she kept her gaze on the Ancient Runes tome in front of her. "I'd rather not waste my entire free period with you."

Malfoy slid his hand down her arm deliberately, basking in the nervous anxiety that flowed from her. "Really? I thought we were getting along so well yesterday." He tucked her hair behind her ear stroking the side of her neck with his fingertips. "Didn't keep the evidence, I see."

Shivering, Moon silently willed the panic to leave, cursing herself for not taking the extra pill that morning. Malfoy devoured it, slowly moving his hand behind her neck, caressing her softly, amazed at how a gentle touch could cause such as reaction. _You'd think I was hurting her_, he thought, bemused.

He gracefully fell into the chair beside her leaning over and breathing, "Shame, it was the only pleasant mark you bore," into her ear as he slid his hand up her thigh. Though he was gentle as ever, she whimpered in agony through desperate gasps for air. She felt as if his hands were on fire blistering her everywhere he touched as her own panic, not the hand holding her neck to stay her, kept her in place.

Her world swirled into a mass of violent colors spiraling out in front of her until her vision was useless. Her other senses soon followed; touch becoming nothing more than dizzying shocks of pain, sound nothing more than her own panicked heartbeat, and her nose and mouth filled with coppery blood.

When she appeared about to faint from lack of air Malfoy removed his hands. "I suppose that's enough for now, we do have work to do," he said silkily. Licking his fingertips he pulled his satchel onto her desk in the library, casually glancing about to see if anyone noticed the event. He smirked; it seemed her like of the dark corners of the place worked to his advantage.

As Malfoy went about taking out his supplies, Moon desperately tried to regain control of herself. She swayed in her chair with fatigue forcing herself to breathe. Malfoy glanced up at her snapping his fingers in front of her face. "Are you quite finished with you little performance there?" he asked. "I would like to at least start today."

Moon forced herself to respond with anything but tears. Snapping the book closed she turned her hollowed eyes to him. "What do you want, Malfoy?" Her ire immediately replaced her fatigue and Malfoy found himself just as enraptured with the new emotion has he had her panic. "To ravage me, is that it? Do you want to fuck me, Malfoy?" she hissed. "You want to hear me scream, watch me succumb to the panic, lose the will to fight any longer? Would you like that, Malfoy? Is that it?" Loosening her tie, she sighed. "Let's get it over with then because I need a decent grade on this and I sure as hell can't do it with you _torturing_ me like that the whole time."

Malfoy stared at her in shock as she unbuttoned her shirt. He hadn't been torturing her, he'd been _pleasuring_ her; it wasn't his fault she had odd reactions to it.

"Come on, then," she said angrily. "Let's get to it. Tomorrow, if I happen to recover from what could end up as comatose we can actually get down to business."

She had removed her top completely and was looking for the zipper of her skirt when Malfoy accused, "You're bluffing."

Glancing up at him as her skirt pooled at her feet Moon shrugged, unsnapping her bra. "What? It's been done before, Malfoy. What makes you think you raping me would be any different from the previous bastard?" She raised an eyebrow dropping her bra to the floor. "I know your name beforehand?" Shrugging again, she mused, "I suppose it will give me something to say. Better than begging to a god, I suppose."

Malfoy stood. She had sapped all the fun and excitement out of it. The only thing he felt blood rushing to was his cheeks. "I don't want to fuck you," he snarled. "I'm not even tempted."

In one quick movement the entirety of Malfoy's supplies were shoved back into his bag and he slung it over his shoulder. "Wednesday at one. I don't have time for this," he growled shoving passed her.

Moon swallowed her sigh of relief. "It's the only way to make me crack. That's what you want, isn't it Malfoy?" she called over her shoulder.

He didn't turn around.

* * *

Endnote:

1) This is me doing a public apology for not doing the proper research. _She Who Must Not Be Named_, an avid silent reader of mine, has it on good authority that Lilith is _not_ in Islamic Tradition. I wish I could say I went ahead and did tons more research after learning this, but I didn't. Instead, I visited Wiki, which proved me wrong _again_. Can I have a silent pout/temper tantrum and point my finger at behindthename dot com for giving out false facts? It's decidedly my fault though, for being a lazy ass and not looking further into it. _However_, as I was poking around the Wiki page I discovered that I totally rocked when both naming my character _and _the story, it's not so much that my character is similar, but several things that I've already decided on were reflected in some bits and pieces of the lore. (_e.g_. Moon's patronus is a screech owl.) You can check it out by simply typing "Lilith" in your search engine, she's a pretty cool lady. Yes, you read correctly, I think she rocks. Demonic, satanic, feminist, what could be better? By the way, _She_ thanks for the review, it was super great. Though, it's not particularly nice of me, I'm glad my mistake goaded you into reviewing. It's awesome to hear from silent readers.

2) Because I just realized I didn't mention it in the first chapter's notes, _The Dark Side of the Moon_ is a Pink Floyd album and song. I just assumed everyone knew that. I mean, honestly, it's _Pink Floyd_, who doesn't know them?

3) I'm still up in the air about my Defense professor, hence him not being in this chapter. So, if you still want to throw out some thoughts on that go ahead.

4) Please, please review. You've no idea how happy it makes me.


	5. Chapter 5

The Dark Side of the Moon

Chapter 5

_Triggers_

* * *

We all dangle from a very thin string that slowly sways from sanity to insanity. Lilith Moon's string seemed to dangle her on the insane side of the line more often than not. As she slowly traveled down the long corridor from the library toward the staircase Moon desperately tried to shake the sensation that she could feel hot breath on her neck, that a monster's throbbing member was shoved inside of her lighting her on fire from within, that her flesh was being ripped open again and again.

Her bag brushed up against one of the long jagged scars on her side and her head span at the imaginary pain. She closed her eyes, gasping once for air and the darkness swirled into nightfall and the image of a dark haired man, slumped over with blood gushing though dirty fingers at his throat stood out clearly in the moonlight. She gasped again forcing her eyes open.

He was still there only lit up by the late afternoon sun streaming through the stained glass windows, shading his pale skin in odd shades of blues and reds. She cried, his name lost on her lips.

"Whoa," a worn voice called from behind her, grasping her elbows as her knees tried to buckle. "Easy, sweetheart," it crooned, "take a breath."

She couldn't.

Her skin was on fire again radiating from the points the person behind her was touching and she cried out in pain. "Breathe, sweetheart, breathe," the voice crooned again, but she only heard the gurgling attempts at speech the man before her whispered.

The world melded into a kaleidoscope of colors blurring together in dizzying patterns as the image of the man fled her. Her ears rushed with sound, the sounds of screams, heartbeats, whispers, and laughter, all gathered into one loud gush of noise as her mouth filled with the salty taste of blood.

Her knees gave way.

* * *

'_Stupid bitch_,' hissed Draco Malfoy mentally as he stormed into the Slytherin common rooms. Growling loudly he yanked the third year sleeping on his favorite chair up and tossed him across the room. "Get out of my sight!" he roared, falling dramatically into the chair and placing his hand over his eyes. '_Fuck her? _Fuck her!_ Who does she think she is? Why would I _want_ to fuck her?_'

He continued to silently rage, glowering at the fireplace with an intensity that could freeze the flames had he wished it until a soft voice cooed in his ear. "_Draco_, baby, what's the matter?"

Sighing resignedly, his hand fell to his side and he peered up at Pansy Parkinson. Her lips parted into a fake smile. "_Draco_, darling, you're trembling with frustration. Let's go up stairs." He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. '_Yes, Pansy would think everything could be solved with a good fuck._' He snorted. '_As if Pansy's a good fuck._'

"_Draco_," she whined.

Glancing up at her, Malfoy sighed and cupped her cheek in his hand. His thumb softly brushed across the tiny freckles that peppered her cheekbone and she leaned into his caress.

It was pathetic. She was pathetic. Malfoy laughed dryly at himself. He was pathetic. He should have taken her. He should have proved her wrong. It's what his father would have done.

"_Draco,_" whispered Parkinson as his fingers buried themselves in her hair, guiding her lips to his. He kissed her gently, sorely regretting his hasty decision to leave. Well, there was always Wednesday.

* * *

"_Lila," a hoarse voice chuckled in her ear, "stay still. This is permanent; you're going to mess it up." She giggled, desperately trying not to squirm but failing miserably as the tickle of wet ink whispered with the lightest of caresses across her spine. "Lila," the voice reprimanded. _

"_Sorry," she whispered, as if keeping a low voice would prevent her from moving. "It tickles, and you've been at it for ages, I have to pee."_

_Warm breath wafted across her neck as moist lips brushed against her skin. "And, I'd let you up, if you wouldn't peek. But, I can't trust you, can I Lila?" She gave a small shake of her head and he laughed into her ear. "Five more minutes and I swear; we'll be done." _

_The cool ink spilled across her flesh again, and she bit her lip to hold back her giggle. "You could at least entertain me. Making me lay face down for hours, suppressing my laughter and not even giving me something interesting to think about. You're cruel." _

_His rich baritone laughter filled the room and he pressed his lips to her neck, inhaling the sweet jasmine scent of her hair. "Cruel? I thought I was being nice. You've been begging to have this done ever since I can remember." _

_She pouted dramatically. _

"_Alright," he caved. "What would you like for entertainment? For me to recite poetry?"_

"_Sing," was her short response. _

_He laughed. "I should have known that was coming."_

"_Well, I like to listen to you sing," she whispered innocently. _

"_Mmhmm," he murmured before quietly falling into song. _

_She drifted into oblivion as he sang, letting his deep, smooth voice carry her away into almost a peaceful slumber. The tickling of the brush along her skin faded into nothing, and his warm breath encompassed her fully. She was merely floating in his warmth, in his sound, entirely contented, entirely whole. _

"_All done," the words wormed their way into her fragmented world and she blinked her eyes open. _

_His eyes were an endless sea, or so she always thought. So blue, and so deep. She smiled into them and his fingers brushed her cheek as he tucked her hair behind her ears. "You want to see?" he asked and she shook her head. _

_Gently cupping him though the thin fabric of his pajamas, she whispered, "I'd rather have you." _

"Hey there," a gravelly voice greeted Moon as she slowly pried her eyes open. "You alright?"

She rolled over and retched into the rubbish bin beside her. "Fine," she muttered once she managed to regain herself. "Fine."

"You fainted on me," the voice informed her as a callous hand held out a patterned handkerchief. "Burns, by the way, Jaysen Burns. New Defense professor."

Moon nodded, sitting up and wiping the tears from her cheeks. "I know."

The professor grinned at her, his teeth were uneven and crooked, and his lips much too thin, but Moon couldn't help but think he had a nice smile. "I wasn't sure. You're not in any of my classes."

She nodded, brushing her short crimson hair from her eyes. "I stopped taking the class after the fourth useless professor."

"Ah," was his simple answer. "I don't blame you."

"Well, thanks," she murmured, slowly rising from the battered sofa. She swayed on her feet and his calloused hands found her shoulders.

"No. No, you don't. Stay put for a bit," he ordered, firmly but gently guiding her back to the sofa. "You're shaking like a leaf. No need to agitate it further by getting lost in the masses returning to class."

"I'm fine," she retorted, standing up again.

He turned to her, fixing her with a dim glare. "Don't make me hex you."

Moon fell back onto the sofa with a huff, glowering at the man's back. He tittered around the cabinets behind his battered oak desk for a moment before facing her again. Placing a patterned teacup in her hand, he sighed. "You're a rather grim little thing, to have such a nice smile."

"How would you know?" sniffed Moon, swirling her teacup, watching the liquid whirlpool.

Laughing slightly, Professor Burns replied, "It's not spiked with anything more than whiskey, if that's why you're avoiding it." Moon glanced up at him suddenly, the amber liquid sloshing over the brim of her cup as her attention fled it. "You were smiling in your sleep," he answered, shrugging.

"Oh," intoned Moon, nodding dimly before sipping the tea. "Sometimes, the nightmares are pleasant."

Burns nodded understandingly. "Those aren't nightmares then, honey."

Moon laughed darkly. "Every dream with him is a nightmare, because when I wake up, he's gone. It's a cruel realization to face every morning." Burns didn't respond.

"It's Lily, right?" asked Burns after a long moment of silence.

"Lilith," she corrected. "Lilith Moon." She brought her hollowed eyes to his pale green ones. "I take it you're the latest 'save Moon, therapist?'" Snorting, she shook her head. "Look, I don't have time for this. I have class in less than ten minutes."

Chuckling, Burns sat on the coffee table in front of her, blocking her exit with his knees. "I wasn't aware of any 'save Moon' campaign. Care to share why there would be?"

Her eyes blinked once, before she meet his gaze head on. "How many times a day to you think of suicide, sir? I mean, truly contemplate ending you own life. And then, sir, how many times do you come to the conclusion that you are undeserving of that peace?"

Burns smiled tightly. "Evidently, as often as you, Ms. Moon."

Lilith attempted to hide her sob in a laugh. "I'm not whole anymore, sir. Not even close to it. It's my fault. I did this. If you would, please, excuse me. I have things to do."

"Lilith," called Burns as she handed him her half-empty cup, and stepped over his leg to leave. "I'll excuse you from class. Go get some sleep."

Gazing at him solemnly, she replied, "What makes you think I sleep? Just because I dream?" He grabbed her hand as she started for the door again and her breath caught in her throat. "That's my trigger, sir. Best let me go. I can't afford another breakdown this week."

"There was no one in the hall," retorted Burns as he dropped her hand.

"There was a truth potion in the tea," she whispered and he let her go.

* * *

_Panic was radiating from her, washing over him in pleasant waves as he slowly painted her core with his fingertips. Her voice was lost on her lips as she tried to scream, her nails digging into his skin as she begged him to stop. She couldn't breathe, but her body was reacting to him, pleading for him to move inside her. _

_He complied, slowly pressing two fingers into her and she wailed silently, begging him to stop. He smirked, Merlin she felt good. Tight, her muscles contracting around his fingers as he moved in and out of her, despise her desperately attempts to convince him that it hurt, that she didn't want it. _

_His tongue trailed up the side of her neck, as he tasted her. Merlin, she tasted like fear, like panic. It was almost overwhelming. _

_As his lips crossed the main vein pumping blood through her neck, he stopped, letting his fingers rest at her entrance. Tasting her erratic heartbeat with his tongue, he took a deep breath and if at all possible, her panic driven body tensed further. Sinking his teeth into her neck, sucking brutally as the blood flowed into his mouth he cruelly shoved his fingers inside her again. She cried out, her body arcing, tears streaming down her cheeks. It was his name on her lips. _

_Suddenly, she was gone. He was no longer in school robes, pinning a panicked Lilith Moon to him as he pleasured her ruthlessly. Instead, he was masked, staring into the broken face of an old man, who similar tears streaming down his cheeks. _

_Draco Malfoy panicked within, but kept his cool facade. He didn't have a choice. He couldn't be weak here. _

"_Please," the bleeding man pleaded again, grasping at air. "Please, just don't touch my babies. Please, they didn't do anything. They don't know anything." As the memory played on, the man continued to beg. _

_Everything was colorless. Black and white. Shadows. _

_He shook his head. He made no promises. He could never keep them. He didn't have a choice. "Where are they?" he drawled, doing everything in his power to keep his voice from wavering. _

"_Please," the man begged, and his blood shown red in the shadowed candlelight. _

_Without warning, the scene changed. Back to black and white, back to colorless. Someone was writhing on the stone floor. Violent screaming issuing from her mouth. She was beautiful. Glorious. Even in her agony. He admired her for that. _

_Beauty in pain. It gave him some small comfort. That what he caused was beautiful. Cruel. Brutal. But, Beautiful. _

Malfoy awoke in a sweat, his heart racing, his blood pounding in his veins. Inhaling a deep shuddering breath, he sat up.

"Mm, Draco," a groggy Parkinson murmured. "What's the matter?"

"Go back to sleep, Pansy," he growled. Leaning over her, he grabbed his cigarette case and lit up. "Merlin," sighed Malfoy. "I've gotta stop doing that."

"Doing what, Draco?" asked Parkinson.

Malfoy laughed dryly. "Having erotic dreams about women you'll never compare too."

Parkinson snored. Malfoy rolled his eyes, taking a long drag off his cancer stick. He sighed heavily. He'd have to get rid of this preoccupation with Moon. It was causing his nightmares to return. Like thoughts of her were a trigger, or something.

* * *

Endnotes:

1) Not much to say. Uh… I hope you enjoyed. Any and all feedback is welcomed.

2) Thanks for reading.


	6. Chapter 6

The Dark Side of the Moon

Chapter 6

_Pulse Points_

* * *

Draco Malfoy could not sleep. '_That wretched Moon girl_,' as he referred to her, continuously haunted his dreams, sending him spiraling into colorless nightmares of the horrid deeds he had done in the past.

The school week was almost over, Friday night faded into Saturday morning as he stowaway from the castle, into the sodden grass of the ground, under the lightning marbled night sky. Thunder roared loudly as storm clouds dramatically rolled across the sky, grappling for space. Icy rain pelted down upon him, soaking his through his thin summer cloak as he lifted his hood and trotted along the edge of the castle toward a large niche in the stonewalls where a gargoyle once stood.

Crawling up into the space, shivering despite the warm summer night because of the hammering ice-like rain, Malfoy inhaled deeply and shrugged out of his drenched cloak. Lighting up a cigarette, he leaned against the wall, oddly thankful for the battle that once raged on the school grounds, as the scar he was perched in gave him a quiet, dry place to hunker down in for a while.

His eyes closed as he took a long, slow drag, his fatigue catching up with him as he sat in the niche. Two days with only a few nightmare-ridden hours of sleep weighed heavily on him. He had not gone with so little sleep since sixth year. Exhaling the smoke from his lungs, he shook his head. He did not want to dig up those memories.

Focusing his gaze out into the rain, he sighed, letting the nicotine soothe his mind. As he watched the rain pound against the ground, he caught a glance of something white, lit up in a flash of lightning. He squinted, wrinkling his brow and dropping his half-smoked cigarette to the soaked concrete below. Lightning clashed against the sky again and the white figure was lit up once more.

Malfoy smirked.

As he moved toward the figure, the form became more and more visible. It was a woman, sprawled out on the wet ground, a thin yellow blanket preventing the mud and grass from staining her white gown. Her chest heaved as the rain crashed down on her, her chin trembling, her eyes tightly closed. The white, soaked nightdress was pooled around her waist, clinging to her skin. Her knees slightly bent and one hand curled in her sopping hair.

Malfoy paused as an almost pained whimper escaped the quivering blue lips of the girl before him. He blinked, suddenly feeling as if someone had dumped him in hot water as he realized what was playing out before him. She was masturbating, pleasuring herself in the icy rain.

A soft moan escaped the girl's lips as her neared closer and he caught sight of the crimson and blonde hair. Moon. His breath caught in his throat. He watched, entranced as her body writhed and moved before him, her hand sliding down for her hair and caressing her skin through the drenched fabric of her gown.

Without real thought, Malfoy kneeled beside her, pressing his lips to hers in a demanding kiss. She latched onto him hungrily. Coiling her hands in his shirt, she pulled him atop her, her tongue battling desperately with his. Malfoy stilled at her passion, the way she devoured him, clung to him, as if she trusted him, knew him, _loved_ him.

"No, baby, please," cried Moon pleadingly. "Don't go. Stay." Malfoy nodded, completely overwhelmed with the entire experience.

He took her hands, holding them above her head. She complied with his wishes thoughtlessly as he pressed his lips to the pulse point behind her ear. "Slow," he murmured into her hairline. Holding her hands in place with one of his, he returned to kissing her — softly, slowly — trailing his free hand up a down the useless material of the dress.

He kissed his way across her jaw line, and down her neck, savoring the taste of the scarred flesh, basking in her lustful movements. As he moved further down her body, his grip on her hands slackened and she buried them in his hair, tilting her body to him.

"No," choked Malfoy, the rain unbelievably cold on his burning skin. "No… you stay… put," he panted. As he grabbed her wrists, he could feel her blood racing in her veins. Taking her left to his mouth, he tasted her, sucking the rainwater from the hot flesh. His eyes closed and he groaned, involuntarily rubbing his erection against her. She cried out as he dug into the soft flesh of her abdomen and he moaned against her wrist.

It amazed him, the way her heartbeat affected him, the way it made him want it, her, so much. Chasing the raging beat of her heart, he pressed his lips to the pulse point at the bend of her arm, sucking hungrily at it, trying to devour it, make it part of him. He wanted it; he wanted her. He moved again, chasing it higher up, but it was not enough. Drilling his mind for the information of where her pulse points lay, he moved to her neck and down her other arm. All the while, she writhed beneath him, chanting some ungodly prayer.

When he released her left arm, in hunt of her right, she moaned, bringing her hand to her breast. She teased it gently, brushing her fingers against her erect nipple and making herself gasp. Malfoy's attention fled her pounding heart rate at the noise and grabbed her hand, forcing it above her head. "No," he growled primordially, "mine."

Ripping her gown apart, he feasted upon her, hungrily attacking her breasts, delicately tasting her scars, cherishing the flavor. Her breaths turned sharp and the words of her chant fled her, and she begged. "Oh, please. Please," she pleaded, yearning for the feel of completion again.

He shushed her, kissing her lightly, caressing her sides with his fingertips. Slowly, he slid his hand over her mound, her center unbelievably hot. She bucked her hips against him and he could feel the beat of her heart there.

The excitement coursed though him uncontrollably and he abandoned her lips. He fed upon the vein, leaving tiny bruises in his wake. Unable to decide which thigh he wanted more, he wavered from one to the other, her feminine scent mixing with the rain driving his primal senses wild.

"Please," she whimpered, and his attention could no longer be held with his obsession.

Forcing her legs apart, he tilted her hips up to him, holding her buttocks firmly in each hand as she balanced her lower body on her toes. He painted her with an artist's touch, his tongue his brush. She trembled in his hands as he sucked and nibbled, licked and kissed. As he pressed his tongue inside her, she cried out, her hands fisting in her own hair, her body shaking. He fucked her with his tongue, feeling her muscles tense and relax, erratically, erotically.

At long last, she came, crying out another lover's name, her toes curled in the blanket, her hands coiling in her hair. Malfoy didn't flinch.

He let her ride the wave of bliss, pressing his ear to her stomach as she relaxed, her pounding heartbeat sounding in his ear.

When she finally caught her breath, he flipped her over and she gave an 'oh' of surprise. Yanking the wet material of her gown forward, he pulled her to her knees, pressing her face to the ground. He slammed within her, as a murderer would drive a dagger into one's heart and she yelped. His fingers curled in her crimson hair, and he jerked her up onto her elbows, driving himself into her again. She bit into her lip, frantically suppressing her scream as he continued to pound himself in her, tugging angrily at her hair, forcing her neck to arch back painfully.

Suddenly, he came, spilling his seed into her, the pouring rain washing over him as he stared into the lightning marbled sky.

She felt as if someone had filled her with hot, liquid metal.

Her head fell forward as he uncurled his fingers from the wet locks. He stared at the traces of black shining through the white of her dress and he placed a kiss on her spine before ending all contact.

Moon slumped to her side, gasping for air as she sobbed. Her brows furrowed and her chin quivered as she dragged herself to a sitting position. Malfoy paled at the heartbreak in her eyes. "Kal- Kal- Kaleo_!" _she cried, staring directly at Malfoy. "Y-You- You," she sobbed, "you l-love m-me."

Guilt. Malfoy was familiar with it. He had a lot to be guilty about. Not that he ever admitted to experiencing the emotion before. Malfoy's were above guilt. They were too wealthy, too pure, too superior to feel guilt.

What he had just done was not a game. She never knew it was Malfoy, was not_ him_, her fallen lover. She still did not know. Malfoy gulped and then—

He slapped her. Hard. The force of the blow causing her to spiral down to the ground. "You stupid fucking _whore_," he shouted. "What the fuck are you on!" Gripping her hair in his fists, he pulled her face level with his. "Do you see me?" he screamed. "Me! _Draco_ _Malfoy_! Do you see me?" He shook her in his rage and she stared at him blankly.

He slapped her. "Listen to me!" he yelled. "Look at me!" Her eyes fluttered and she swayed. Hurriedly searching for his wand, he pointed it at her, whispering a dark charm to rid her of her fantasy.

He slapped her. "Do you see me?" he growled. She nodded. "Do you hear me?" She nodded.

He slapped her. "My name is Draco Malfoy. _I _fucked you. _I_ hurt you. Draco Malfoy. Did you hear that?" She nodded, her dark eyes sparkling brokenly, her cheeks reddened, her lip and nose bleeding. "I hurt you," he whispered, closing his eyes against the pain in hers. "I hurt you," he repeated.

"You hurt me," she murmured and he nodded— his head light, his world dizzy.

"I hurt you." He opened his eyes again and she turned her face from him.

"I'm so sorry," she cried, and he released her, letting her bury her face in her knees and cry, the icy cold rain washing over both of them.

Malfoy stood, zipping his trousers and wiping the rain from his forehead. "I know," he whispered. And he did know. He knew because he was sorry too. Sorry for everything. Her. The people he hurt before her. The people he would hurt after her. Everything. And he was guilty. So guilty.

He left her, traipsed back up to the castle with a guilty heart and an unabated lust, obsession, for the broken girl in the rain.

* * *

Endnote:

1) So, basically, I have no idea where this came from. It kind of just jumped out at me and demanded to be written. It was rather weird. I mean, I like it… but, it could just be me.

2) Don't worry, there was a point to it. You'll get filled in later.

3) Kaleo (depending upon behindthename again, so don't shoot me if I'm mistaken) means, the sound or voice, in Hawaiian. Why does and British kid have a Hawaiian name? Well, I'm going with his parents got pregnant in Hawaii, and decided to give him a Hawaiian name.

4) To all my American readers, Happy Thanksgiving. To everyone else, I'm sorry you missed out on the turkey.

5) Thanks for reading. A review would really make my day. :-)


	7. Chapter 7

The Dark Side of the Moon

Chapter 7

_Pet Names_

* * *

Professor Jaysen Burns strode out onto the Hogwarts grounds with long, lengthy strides the bright sun casting warm glowing rays across his lean figure as he moved. A mixture of muggle and wizard curses flitted from his tongue as he slipped in the muddy grass, fighting to maintain his balance on his journey to check his Grindylow traps in the Great Lake. His gaze remained on his feet and the sodden ground for the majority of his travel across the grounds, however as he neared the lake he halted, inhaling the cool morning air to catch his breath. 

His blue-grey eyes fell closed and he pinched the bridge of his nose, his wire-framed glasses resting on his knuckles, at the sight that greeted him in the early morning light.

The crumpled form of a child was lying out across the ground, her body shockingly clean considering the muddy ground that surrounded her. One hand curled around her mouth as if stifling a cry or a scream, the other gripped the torn, white fabric of her nightgown over her legs, whether in an attempt to protect herself from the cold or some other demon Jaysen Burns was unsure.

Burns sucked in a large gulp of air, steeling himself for what he was sure was death, before carefully moving toward the girl. Placing his fingers to her neck, he choked down a sigh of relief at her faint heartbeat and he ran his fingers through her short, matted hair. "Oh sweetheart, what have you done?" he asked her unconscious form quietly.

Carefully, he lifted her into his arms, his bones protesting against her weight. "It's a good thing you're a little thing, honey," he told her softly, though she couldn't hear. "'Friad, I'm getting a bit too old to be carrying around pretty little things like yourself. And we've seemed to have made it a habit."

The journey to the Hospital Wing was a slow one, but to Burns' great relief it wasn't because he had to weave in and out of breakfast traffic.

Moon hung limply in his arms as he kicked open the doors, her head bobbling, her arm swaying lifelessly. Madame Pomfrey screamed at the sight.

"Whoa, whoa, Poppy, she's okay," crooned Burns as the nurse placed her hand over her mouth, aghast, running toward the pair. "She just spent the night out in the storm. I'm sure a bit of soup and tea will patch her right up." Madame Pomfrey withheld her opinion on that statement and ushered the professor into the room, guiding him to a bed.

Professor Burns watched with intrigue as the usually cool and collected school nurse went about checking Moon's vitals with shaking hands. At one point, Madame Pomfrey paused, pressing her hand to her forehead and harshly reprimanding herself.

"Poppy, are you okay?" asked Burns and the nurse brushed him off. A long while passed as Madame Pomfrey flicked her wand, casting numerous charms on the girl, summoned dozens of potions and coaxed Moon's unconscious body into drinking them, as the professor watched.

With a shuddering breath, Pomfrey stopped, and collapsed into the chair beside Moon's bed. "There was nothing in her system. Nothing," she sighed, shaking her head. Her worried eyes sought out those of the professor. "There's never been nothing before. Even before… She smokes. There should be at least traces of nicotine. And there's nothing."

Her companion nodded slowly. "The bruising on her cheeks, her lip was busted. Surely that—"

"No," interjected Pomfrey. "It wasn't enough to render her unconscious. It hurt, it stung, but it didn't incapacitate her. No, she took something." For the first time in her life, the nurse felt defeated she looked defeated — her head held in her shaking hands, her graying mousy brown hair falling limply around her face, her frail shoulders slumped. "She's afraid of thunder. Deathly afraid of thunder," she murmured. "She couldn't have gone out there without some sort of drug."

"Are you sure?" asked Professor Burns.

Madame Pomfrey laughed solemnly. "Yes. I'm sure." She stood, brushing Moon's short, crimson locks from her eyes. "She's still running a high fever and she'll be ill when she wakes. I'll keep her here for a few days. Will you let the Headmistress know?" Burns nodded once, smiling sadly at the nurse, he's brow furrowed in thought, before he turned to leave.

"Oh, and Jaysen?" called Pomfrey as he reached the doors. "If you'd not tell her about the drug, I'd greatly appreciate it. Lilith and I will discuss it when she wakes."

Burns agreed, his mind running wild with all sorts of confusing thoughts and ideas.

* * *

Draco Malfoy wasn't exactly sure of what he was doing, he only knew that if he didn't see her he wouldn't sleep, _again_. And, he wanted sleep, desperately. Guilty conscience or not, the previous night was the best sleep he'd had in ages. Slowly, he padded through the long, dark halls of the Hogwarts castle, after ditching the brushy-haired goody Granger, and up toward the Hospital Wing. Casting a charm on the door to the nurse's sleeping chamber as he a cracked the door to the wing open, he prevented her from being alerted to his presence. He slipped inside quietly and suddenly halted just inside at the sight that greeted him. 

Lilith Moon swayed dramatically on her feet, one hand clutching the bedpost, the other held out before her like someone walking in the dark. Her breaths were wheezy and tears spilled from her eyes. She coughed hoarsely and tumbled forward. Malfoy watched, hypnotized, as she collapsed to the cold floor and her violet coughing intensified until she was curled up on her side gripping her chest as she hacked.

He stared at her for what seemed like hours before she fell silently and slowly dragged herself to a sitting position. Leaning against the edge of the bed, she tugged at the frilly pink lace at the edge of her nightdress, coaxing it to cover her legs. She tilted her head back and inhaled a deep breath. It was exhaled in another painful fit of coughing.

"Moon?" whispered Malfoy softly and she slowly forced her eyes open.

Numbed panic rapidly consumed her, but each of her attempted to escape him only agitated her cough, her headache, her raw throat, and eventually, she creased fighting. Let him do as he pleased, she thought exhaustedly. She couldn't fend him off anyway.

Malfoy observed her, enraptured with her frantic and pained attempts, and then with amazement as he watched it fade and her resolve to escape die, and be replaced with something new.

Striding across the room, with a slow, lengthy gait, he halted before her and roughly hoisted her up. Depositing her back on the bed, he brushed his hair from his eyes, attempting to ignore the prickling desire washing across him. "How are you?" he asked gruffly, perching in the chair by her bed.

Moon glanced at him warily before growling, "Get the fuck out." Her voice was a mere rasp, her body trembling, and her glower useless when it was cast through puffy, teary eyes.

"Tsk, tsk, little Moon," he reprimanded. "Such language is not fitting for a young lady." Moon attempted to glare more fiercely at him, however the effort only sharpened the pounding in her head and she was forced to close her eyes, tears sliding down her cheeks.

"Not well, I suppose is the obvious answer," drawled Malfoy, using her moment of blindness to his advantage. He stood, gently tugging her blanket over her shivering form. The heat of her fever warmed his hands as they brushed across her skin.

Her fingers curled in his silky blond hair and she jerked him away weakly, fighting down the urge to cough again. "Don't fucking touch me," she said firmly and he flicked his smoky grey eyes to her.

Wrapping his slender fingers around her wrist, he clucked his tongue again. "Little Moon, is that anyway to treat someone who is taking care of you. Honestly, now," he scolded her lightly, entwining his fingers with hers as he removed them from her hair.

A shudder ran up her spine and she attempted to rip her hand from him, he only tightened his grasp, digging his nails painfully into her skin. She whimpered and fell into a fit of violent coughing once more. When she managed to regain control, she whispered, "Please, I don't feel well. Just leave me alone."

Malfoy cooed mockingly. "I know, poppet." Stroking her hair, he pushed her back down onto the pillows, her painful coughs amusing him slightly. "I know," he breathed against her cheek, sitting on the edge of her bed. "Now, poppet, why don't you tell me where you were going?" he asked softly, trailing his fingers against her fever reddened cheeks.

"Bed," she answered, weakly shoving him away, praying for the nurse to emerge from her domain. When she realized her efforts were in vain, she pleaded, "Please, stop touching me."

"But, why?" questioned Malfoy. "You aren't panicking nearly as much as last time. And, by Merlin, Little Moon, I like the way you feel under my fingertips." His fingers slowly traced down the side of her neck, following the path of scars. She tilted her head away from him, crying faintly and he pressed a wet kiss to her hot cheek, tasting the salty remains of her tears.

"How about we make a deal, poppet?" he whispered into her ear. "You kiss me. Just once. And I'll go. No more questions, no more transparent fabrications from you. Just kiss me, and I'll leave you to sleep off this flu."

Moon nodded once, praying that Madame Pomfrey hadn't given her anything to prevent the virus from spreading. "Good," he breathed, tilting her lips back to him. Pressing his lips to hers softly, he felt her fever burn him and he groaned sliding his hand behind her head and pushing her more fully against him. As she parted her lips to welcome his desire to deepen the kiss, the panic her cold-drugged body had been numbing welled inside her and Malfoy greedily drank her scream.

Her taste was on fire as he devoured her. He couldn't get enough of it, the way she burned him, the way her panic enticed him. He was a fool for thinking just a taste of her would sedate him for the night. Her trembling, her panic, her raging heartbeat, how could he ever get enough of it?

Moon found herself stuck in a sort of limbo, unsure if she should purge her body of the invasion or just let him have his way with her so he would leave. Surely, he wouldn't fuck her when she was ill, she told herself. As the thought fled her mind, however, he straddled her, his erection pressing against her. She screamed again, placing her hands on his shoulders and desperately shoving him off. "Enough," she cried, "enough."

Malfoy was panting as he pulled away, his lips swollen and yearning for more. Chuckling coolly, he took her hand and placed it over his hardness. "This upset you?" he asked and she nodded.

"Please," she begged, "please. Not tonight."

Smirking, Malfoy rubbed himself against her hand. "But, when you're well." She trembled beneath him and shook her head. "Yes, Wednesday, after we finish our Runes assignment."

"No," she told him defiantly and leaned forward, biting into the soft flesh of her neck.

"Then, I suppose, I'll just fuck you now," he said angrily, rising up to glare at her coldly, her blood staining his lips. "People give me what I want, Moon," he hissed, ripping her blankets down and tossing them to the floor. "Because, people don't like me when I'm unhappy." Sliding his hand between her legs, feeling her burning heat, he whispered, "You'll be hotter now anyway, burning with fever, as you are."

Moon panicked, squirming away from him and Malfoy fisted her hair in his hand, increasing the shrieking pain in her head tenfold. "Wednesday," she gasped, coughs overtaking her again as her hysteria overtook her. "Wednesday."

Malfoy smirked and pressed a firm kiss above the pale lace of her panties. "Wednesday," he repeated and he was gone.

* * *

1) I'm not particularly fond of this… but, it was necessary. We can't have the girl spend the night out in a storm and be right as rain the next day, now can we? 

2) For those of you impatiently waiting for more on Moon's past, that's up next.

3) Draco's a heartless bastard, isn't he? Last night he was guilty, tonight he's like 'Fuck guilty, I'm gunna fuck her!' He needs to be a bit more vulnerable, at some point, so that'll be arriving soon, too. It's just easier to write bastard Draco, than weepy Draco. -shrug- Yeah, I take the easy way out sometimes.

4) Thank you all for your delicious reviews and if I haven't replied to you personally, I apologize. I'm afraid a few review e-mails got lost in the process of cleaning out my files. I'm currently trying to go back and discover which ones they are manually. Very tedious work, I'm afraid.

5) Thanks so much for reading and you're support. After the last chapter's oh so yummy reviews, I'm itching to write more smut. So, expect that in the near future, I suppose.


	8. Chapter 8

Author's Note: So, after rereading the complete shit that was the original chapter eight, I decided to rewrite it, aren't you _so_ glad? I am. Anyways, now for the much improved (in my opinion) chapter eight.

* * *

The Dark Side of the Moon

Chapter 8

_There Again_

* * *

Draco Malfoy smirked as he leaned back on the two rear legs of his chair, watching Lilith Moon's hips sway as she moved around their study table, gathering her things. The sound of her sniffling, the last remnants of her cold, and the ruffling of parchment the only noise filling the tiny room he found for them to finish their Runes project within without the disturbance of prying eyes. 

As she hefted her bag onto her shoulder and moved for the door, he let his legs fall from the tabletop and the four legs of his chair hit the floor with a crack. She jumped, her hand hovering above the knob. "Moon?" he called, standing up and slowing striding over to her.

Moon grasped the doorknob at the sound, twisting it futilely in haste to leave. Malfoy laughed quietly at her struggle. "Honestly now, did you think that I was going to trust you to stay? I'm not stupid, little Moon." He gripped her wrist tightly in his hand, the hem of her skirt barely brushing against his trousers, as she pulled her wand from her stocking. "That's not going to work, either, little one."

The scent of her panic flooded his senses as he neared her and his arousal increased, his smirk widening as he pried her wand from her fingers, the clatter of the wood hitting the floor making her quiver. "And I thought watching you squirm for the past two hours was arousing," murmured Malfoy before he shoved his body against hers, slamming her into the door cruelly. A gasp escaped her lips as the force drove the air from her lungs, the dizzying blow putting her initial reaction on standby.

She struggled against him, trying to force herself from between him and the door, to elbow him, to hurt him, to do anything that would set her free. It was all in vain.

Malfoy pinned her to the door, easily, his body pressing against hers and almost groaning at the sensations it evoked in him. Burying his nose in her hair, he searched for her hands, without cause for hurry, slowly trailing his fingers down her arms, basking in the intense shivers it educed. Intertwining their fingers, he tugged her hands upwards, holding her wrists together at his lips. He whispered a binding charm against them, a silver light surrounded them before fading away into a delicate chain, and with another whispered word she rose a few centimeters off the floor, dangling by her wrists.

"Shush," he cooed, pressing his lips to her cheek before turning her so he could stare down into her tearstained face. Sliding his hands down to her hips, he kissed her, shoving her tightly against the wall and Moon ripped her mouth from him, attempting to kick him.

Smirking as he gripped her thighs in his hands, pinning them to the door, he placed a hot kiss on her neck. "Now, little Moon, you don't want me to take away these too." His fingers danced under her skirt, brushing against her panties and she squirmed, placing her feet flat against the wood behind her and trying to climb away from his touch. Malfoy pressed his lips against the shell of her ear. "Higher?" he queried. "You only had to say."

He shoved her upwards until they were nose to nose, his smirking lips aligned with her trembling ones. Her panicked, tear-filled eyes gazed helplessly into his and he slowly and deliberately kissed away the tears lingering on her cheeks, painful sobs jerking her chest as he performed his task. Malfoy's stomach clenched as fresh tears replaced the old ones; he had not expected her to become so upset.

"This is rape, Malfoy," Moon said as firmly as her quavering voice would allow, as he stared into her dark eyes once more. She was praying for a miracle. He merely shoved her higher upwards, not wishing to deal with the emotions her soulless, teary eyes evoked.

"Is it?" he asked coolly as he tasted the scars along her neck. "I believe you agreed to this. 'Wednesday' you said. You were practically begging at the time, if I'm recalling correctly."

"It's rape, Malfoy," she repeated. Malfoy growled, tugging her face level with his again. _He was not raping her! She agreed to it!_

Clucking his tongue, he slowly brought his fingers to her cheek as he cupped her face in his hand, tracing her trembling bottom lip with his thumb. As he stared into the startlingly dark irises of her eyes, flashing with desperate panic, he caressed her thigh with his free hand. "Shush," he murmured softly, pressing his lips to her forehead. "I know you're scared. It's okay, I promise to be gentle, like you're a virgin." Her eyes slowly closed and tears slipped from between her darkened lashes, burning his skin as they pooled against the dam his fingers created on her cheek.

"Shush," he whispered again, slowly trailing his fingers over the thin white fabric of her shirt, remembering her curves from the last time he touched her. Cupping her breasts, he kissed her again. Moon bit down cruelly on his lip and he jerked back from her, slapping her before he realized his intent to hit her. "You little bitch," he hissed.

"You bastard. You won't get away with it. I'll- I'll," she stuttered, her panic overwhelming her as he pressed his body firmly against hers, his hardness digging into her.

"You're not going to tell, Moon," he drawled into her ear. "Do you know why?" Moon trembled, gasping for breath as the taste of his blood intensified her panic. "You like someone whispering dirty things in your ear as he pounds into you. You like it rough." Malfoy almost lost his train of thought as her shortened breaths washed against his skin as she tittered on the brink of consciousness and her head drifted ever closer to his shoulder. "You like to bleed. You like someone to take control and _make_ your pleasure."

"Please," she begged and he laughed, gripping her hair in his hand and slapping her once more, pulling her from the edge of fainting with the brief flash of pain.

"And you like to beg, don't you, little Moon?" he asked viciously.

He pushed her up high until he could bury his nose in her sex and ripped her skirt from her hips. Placing a soft kiss above the lace of her panties, he said, "I'll be nice, you can come first."

"D-Draco, please," pleaded Moon as he divested her of the only bit on fabric stopping him from tasting her.

Spreading her legs and hooking her knees around his shoulders, he sucked hungrily on her thigh. "I know, Moon," he whispered softly, "but anticipation is good. It makes it all so much better." He buried his nose in her, lapping up her wetness with his tongue, barely managing to withhold his smirk. She did want him. Despite all her pleas to the contrary, she wanted him.

He held her hips tightly as she sat on his shoulders and he fucked her with his tongue, painting her core, softly nibbling at her sex, feasting upon her feminine nectar. Soon a soft moan escaped her lips and it was amplified tenfold in Malfoy's ears as she rocked her hips into him, finally trading her panic for something else entirely. His grip on her loosened in reward, his nails no longer piercing her skin and he stroked her sides, his hands slowly moving to cup her breasts.

She came suddenly, filling his mouth with the taste of her and he drank it hungrily. Her body quivered as he rested his forehead against her abdomen, caressing her sides and murmuring words she rather not hear in a soothing tone.

Tugging her down, he gently placed her on her feet, draping her bound arms around his neck. Her soft sobs sounded in his ear as she buried her tearstained face against him. "Shush," he whispered into her hair, sliding his hands under the sweat dampened fabric of her shirt.

"Please," she whimpered, "please." Malfoy nodded, whispering a charm in her ear. As their skin met, Malfoy groaned, lifting her off the floor and sliding within her in one swift movement. Moon gasped into his ear.

* * *

Cold hands gripped her thighs, forcing her legs apart and Moon sobbed loudly, her mind frantically searching for a way out. 

"Just go somewhere else for a bit_," _a deep voice sounded in her head.

"Just go somewhere else for a bit." It had been at her little brother's funeral when he whispered the words softly into her ear. Everyone was crying and telling her how sorry they were, they didn't even know him. They did not even care that he was gone. Dead. Forever.

Kaleo had seen it, the way she was breaking down inside, crumbling to dust. "Just go somewhere else for a bit," he whispered, kissing her temple. "I'll take care of them, just nod occasionally. "

She had, her body was standing there in that cold room with the heartless people feeding on her grief, tucked away under his safe arm and she left. Sitting on a tire swing in some grassy field she had never seen before, just simply swinging with the wind and scent of the sea.

"Just go somewhere else for a bit."

She did. To the coffee shop where they had first met. It had been so awkward; she had been so awkward.

_Galleons tapped quietly across the marble countertop as the teenager stared moodily at her, and customers grumbled behind her. She was panicking; she did not have any muggle money on her. She always carried muggle money. Why didn't she have any?_

"_Just add another coffee to her order, I got it," a deep gravelly voice said just above her ear and she whipped her head to the side to find herself staring at a black stubble covered jaw line. _

"_Oh, I…" she stumbled for words and he pressed a kiss to her forehead. _

"_Don't worry about it, honey. It's not everyday I get to buy a pretty girl a drink," he whispered, tossing the money on the counter. As Moon hurriedly gathered her things, stuffing them back in her bag, she glanced him at him, finally getting a good look. Her heart stopped. _

_Shaggy dark hair hung loosely into endless blue eyes and soft pink lips curved into a slight smile. He was beautiful. "Thank you," mumbled Moon as she stepped around him, her coffee in hand, barely managing to hide her blush. _

_Her heart was pounding as she made it out the door of the shop and onto the busy sidewalk, murmuring some demented mantra of why she couldn't strike up a conversation with the god-like man who had just saved her from complete and total embarrassment. _

"_Hey, wait," a voice called and Moon hastened her place. "Lilith! Lilith Moon!" Oh fuck, how did he know her name? She stopped, slowly turning around. "You dropped your ID," he offered with a shrug and Moon smiled awkwardly. _

_As she made her way to him, she felt the blood rush to her cheeks. How exactly was she going to deal with this? _

To this day, she couldn't remember how things went from there, how she raked up the nerve to ask for his name, how she managed to end up at his show that night, how she ended up falling in love with him, but it happened just the same. The day they met was not her favorite memory of them, but it didn't matter, it took her somewhere else for a moment, somewhere with him.

The moment was not long enough.

His mouth was everywhere, _everywhere_, she couldn't escape it. He was touching her; he was hurting her. She just wanted to be gone for there, from him. She pleaded with no one.

"_I love your eyes, you shouldn't hide them," he said, pulling her glasses off her nose and tossing them on the bed beside them. Moon laughed softly, shaking her head as his fingers coiled in her hair. _

"_I don't hide them, I happen to need those to see," she answered, trying to pick up the thick plastic framed glasses. _

_Kissing her, Kaleo whispered, "Too read," against her lips. "And you're definitely not reading now," he told her as his fingers slowly unknotted the back of her gown. _

"_Ka," she chuckled into his ear, kissing his softly as he removed her nightgown. "You like my breasts too, should I stop wearing shirts?" _

_Shaking his head, he pinned her to the bed, nibbling his way down her throat. "No, these," he cupped them in his hands; "I'd like to keep to myself." _

"_Don't tease me, today," she whispered to him, lifting hips up to him and he kissed her lips briefly. _

"_But, I like to tease you," he replied. _

_Her eyes fluttered closed and she licked her lips. "And I want you now." _

_A moment later he slid within her slowly and her lip trembled as she released a shaky breath. "Now, honestly, how could I deny you after that," he whispered into her ear as she held him tightly._

"_That's what I was hoping for."_

He was holding her, he felt different, but he smelt the same, like cigarettes and her. They were bare; standing so closely together, she could not believe they were separate. She wanted to be whole with him, as she was meant to be.

"Please," she pleaded, "please." He did not deny her. The cool wood of the door pressed against her back as the heat of him pressed against her front as their two bodies became one. She gasped at the feel of him inside her, as they slipped together perfectly, like to halves of the same whole.

Her eyes opened to silver-grey eyes and white-blond hair, not blue and dark. "Malfoy?" she questioned confusedly before hungrily kissing him, not caring that he wasn't who he was supposed to be.

They moved against each other, with each other. Moon begged him to stay. Heartless bastard or not, she had not felt so much in an eternity, she had not thought of him with happiness since his death. And Draco Malfoy gave her the ability to do that. As long as Malfoy was fucking her, she felt as if he was there again.

* * *

Endnotes:

1) Much better, yes?

2) I really should apologize for the lenghty timespan between updates recently, but I was recently informed that I apologize too much and if don't quit I will be hit over the head with a rather large blunt object. So, now apologies from me, because I _so_ took him seriously. While n this note though, I thought I'd give you all a heads up, I shant be updating in any sort of speedier timeframe anytime soon, but hopefully, it will make the new chapters better. Hopefully...

3) Thank you for reading and please review. ;-)


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